


I Don't Do Collars

by knaveofmogadore



Series: witch and familiar au [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, smut in later fics, trans!Cecil - Freeform, witch and familiar au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 12:32:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4787390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knaveofmogadore/pseuds/knaveofmogadore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael has finally landed himself in something he can't argue his way out of, and Lou has gotten a very problomatic graduation present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Do Collars

**Author's Note:**

> the first in a series of fics I'm working on for my favorite secondary ship. paranormal au's are just the best.

“Hello, my name is Lou. Do you know where you are?”

“My names Michael, and where the fuck am I?”

He was feisty, that was for sure. The handcuffs were actually necessary for this one. It took three people to get him down, and they had more bruises than he did. From what I heard, at least. There was a rather large one on his face though, I would have to talk to my mother about that.

My graduation present, or, I guess Michael would be a better name, is currently lying on the hardwood floor of my apartment. More specifically, my bedroom, with walls painted royal purple and a large window with a lavender colored seat. I know what you’re thinking, and no, he’s not _that_ kind of present. He was a familiar, a typical, traditional gift for a witch that just graduated school. For the families that could afford it, that is. Other gifts could be anything from an engraved cauldron to a wand, or even something as ridiculous as a demon summoning kit like my friend Alabaster got. Well, half brother, but back to the point!

The point in question was squirming again, kicking his bound legs and pulling at the handcuffs. He was also clothed, thankfully, in all black. From the pants that looked like leather leggings to the combat boots. From the black shirt to the new, slim, leather collar around his pale neck. He, Michael, was also really, really short, he couldn’t be more than four and a half feet. With that plus the accent the only thing keeping him from being a leprechaun was the black hair.

Also, you know, the fact that he was a shape shifter and not an angry, mischievous, little old man. Well, he wasn’t a little old man, but he was angry and he had committed quite a few crimes, some bad enough to land him far worse than being a familiar to a fresh witch. And he is still yelling. Soundproof apartment or not, it was really starting to annoy me. I guess that explains the box of sleeping powder mother sent with him, along with his belongings. Which is a pity, because I don’t want to drug him.

“I bet you’re enjoying yourself, right? This is probably just _so_ fucking hilarious to you!”

Now, he was just panting on his side, I guess he gave up with struggling, for now at least. But the way he’s looking at me, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look at anyone with so much hatred in my entire life. It was almost feral. When it’s directed at me, it's terrifying. At least, it should be, but the only thing I can feel is pity. I can’t help but wonder what made this little thing so angry at the world.

“There’s no reason to snap at me, Mike. I didn’t land you into this.”

After a half hour of him screaming, the silence is suffocating me a bit. I had to leave the room so i could breathe. Dropping onto the leather couch, I pick up my phone from the glass coffee table so i could skim through my messages. There was several more congratulations from family and family friends, as well as some excited chattering from Alabaster. Apparently the summoning kit worked. Not looking forward to meeting the result, so no, he can’t bring his new whatever over tomorrow.

There was also an invite from Cecil, my Fey friend, for crashing Drew’s party on Saturday. I’ll get back to him on it. A thud from the bedroom reminds me that I have other responsibilities, like a new living thing to care for, and where to put him.

My apartment isn’t exactly personal yet, since I’ve been on a budget the last few years. Almost everything is either a gift or from Ikea. Its a weird mash of modern mixed with vintage chic, but I can deal with it until I start getting clients. A little bit of money would go a long way to making this place more like home. Right now though, I need to find Michael a place to sleep, because something tells me that it’s not a good idea to keep him in my bedroom any time soon. I should take the handcuffs off though…probably….

Knocking at the door and another thud from the bedroom. I chose the newer problem. Cecil is about five-foot-two of trouble, and tops 95 pounds soaking wet. He looks perfectly innocent though, with mouse brown hair and big blue eyes. The main reason he gets away with more than I do. That, and he runs faster.

“You never texted me back”

“I was about to”

Cecil snorted and rolled my eyes. We’ve known each other since grade school, so I know exactly what that means. liar. He slips in by me into the apartment, uninvited. Cocky little shit. He acts like I’ve never not let him in. That’s because he’s never asked. He immediately started walking around, checking under the couch before drifting off to the kitchen. I heard a cabinet slam.

“And what are you doing?”

“So where are you keeping him?”

So that’s why he came over. I couldn’t help but smile, Cecil was such a meddler. A real bang this time from the bedroom, and really, I’m starting to think I might need to start padding stuff in this place. A bout of really foul cursing follows it. Cecil runs off before I can stop him. So, like a mature adult, I followed slowly and barely groaned. I also, of course, gently nudged Cecil out of the doorway so i could see what my new roommate had done to himself.

He had nearly brained himself on the dresser (silver, also from Ikea), and there was a little bit of blood on the edge of it. My friend was frozen in place, so I went ahead to the bathroom down the hall to grab the first aid kit. I caught sight of almond skin in the mirror and stopped for just a second. My eyes were a pinkish brown today, not that strange. My hair was, wait, I squinted at the mirror. There, much better, it was dark brown now, and a little past my shoulders. I would need to get it trimmed soon.

The patient was currently glaring at a bemused Cecil sitting on my bed, kicking his legs like a kid. Michael turned to me, I guess my familiar chose the lesser of two evils. How touching. He went ahead and leaned his head forward away from my furniture. I’m guess this isn’t the first time he’s hurt himself by acting like an idiot.

Mike winced after the first antiseptic wipe, but relaxed after grandma’s healing salve. I even went the extra mile and gave him a scratch behind the ears for good measure. He leaned into it and purred for a split second, before his eyes widened and he jerked away from me. I won’t lie, I felt kind of bad, but I guess trust can’t be built overnight. I left him to his brooding face for a sec to set the first aid kit on the bedside table. We’ll be needing it if he keeps this up.

“He’s cute”

Cecil had his face propped up in his hands with that dopey smile on his face. The one where he looks more smug than happy. I smacked him with a pillow.

“He has a name, it’s Michael, not Mike.”

Oh, so he’s decided to stop pouting. About time, I thought he would give me the silent treatment all night. Cecil giggled again, I have a feeling they won’t be getting along anytime soon. I slapped my hand over his mouth before he said anything else stupid.

“Thanks for telling me, anything else I should know?”

“The restraints are chafing.”

“You aren’t going to attack me if I take them off, are you?”

“Yes, of course, I’ll eat your hair and maul you when you fall asleep.”

“The sarcasm is nice but not really necessary”

He stretched his legs out and looked at me expectantly. I sighed and walked back over, smacking Cecil on the back of the head for good measure. Michael hates me enough, I don’t need my friend making things worse. Once I’d unlocked his legs he jerked them away and crossed them underneath them. Then he held out his wrist with the same expression. I’ll be honest, I almost left them on.

“There, anything else for you?”

“I don’t like collars.”

“I don’t have the key for it.”

“How do you not have the key!”

“Mom didn’t think it was necessary to give it to me apparently.”

It was at this point that Cecil broke down into laughter. Ok, so I snorted a little bit along with him. It wasn’t like mom to just forget something, so she obviously meant for me to leave the collar on. Which had, _implications_. Implications that I didn’t want to think about, saying that both of mom’s familiars had lived with us for forever.

Michael, on the other hand, had lapsed again into brooding silence. I hope he’s not like this all the time, because I can’t live with someone who lacks a sense of humor. Hopefully it’s just because of the situation at the moment.

He slipped a finger under the collar and tugged at it slightly, I could see that it was red underneath. Now I really felt bad, that looked like it hurt. Cecil, who seemed to always be able to tell when I needed something, passed the the first aid kit. I dug around in the box until I found the powder I made for Cec before his top surgery. He was one of those boys that would always get rashes.

I scooted over next to Michael, ignoring the wary look he sent my way, his fingers still looped around the collar. I pulled them away by his wrist, then rubbed some of the power on my fingers and set to work. He tilted his face away like that would hide it, but I could see him biting his lip and grimacing. I felt another pang at that.

Most of my guilt evaporated when a giggle slipped out. It wasn’t mine, so I passed my fingers back over the spot I had been rubbing and Michael lost it. His face was red and his shoulders were shaking, and I filed the information Michael’s ticklish for later use.

“Well that’s unexpected.”

I could feel myself smiling, this little asshole was adorable. When he wasn’t being angry and belligerent, that is. Michael’s face got even more red. He clamped his mouth shut.

“Aww come on, I think it’s sweet!” Cecil whined. Why haven’t I kicked him out yet?

“Shut it!”

 

I went back to work, and Michael let out a long suffering sigh that devolved into a breathy chuckle. Cecil snorted and I smiled.

Yeah, I would be having words with my mother tomorrow, and one of them would most likely be “Thankyou”.


End file.
